


The Caprine Surprise

by LadyMizra



Series: Animal Husbandry [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angry Tony Stark, Animals, Anxious Steve Rogers, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Drunk Clint Barton, Gen, Goats, Harm to Furniture, Or as seriously as one can, Surprise Goat, Surprises, drunk!clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 12:52:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6052309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMizra/pseuds/LadyMizra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a mysterious furniture eating goat in the Tower, and JARVIS says it doesn't exist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Caprine Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> You should probably read the first fic to get full context but you could read this one first. Enjoy!

Natasha was out of the helicopter faster than Bruce could get up. By the time he had, she slammed the door behind herself so hard, Bruce almost had his nose broken. Though the door hadn't hit him, being a hair's width away before he was able to stop, he had to take a moment to breathe. His jaw was tight, and though he wasn't angry at her, he was concerned. The stress of the mission had taken its toll on him, so it must have done the same for her. They almost hadn't succeeded. Once he was able to loosen the tension that had woven itself through his bones and muscles, he stepped out onto solid ground. He hurried across the roof of Stark Tower to catch up with his fellow Avenger, preparing himself for backlash from the comforting words he would offer.

“I'm sure its going to be alright. He's going to be watched twenty-four seven.”

Luckily for Bruce, Natasha slowed, if only out of courtesy, but her slender frame didn't relax a bit. She didn't answer right away, waiting until they got to the elevator door. “He's a murderer, Bruce. He may be young, but that doesn't excuse him.”

Bruce pressed his thumb against the scanner that sat to the right of the door. It took several seconds for the elevator to come up, but once it did, the doors opened. He chose his next words carefully. “He's seventeen. That doesn't excuse his actions, but.... all of us have been given second chances.”

Natasha strode inside first, jabbing her finger on the button for the twenty-second floor. Her had gripped her duffel bag tight to keep it on her shoulder. There was no caution, or hesitation in her as she stared up at the unassuming scientist. It was obvious that she was too angry to go about the conversation in the same careful manner Bruce was. “He's a sorcerer who can control the dead. He took over the capitol building easily. If it wasn't for you-”

“The Hulk.” The sensitive topic of his alter ego made him quick to correct her. He and the green beast were distinct.

Natasha knew this, and her demeanor softened some at Bruce's discomfort. “If it wasn't for the Hulk, Black Ghast would have been able to raise his shield. No one would have been able to get inside.”

Bruce broke eye contact, even though Natasha's stare was less uncomfortable than it once was. It was his weariness that took over as he leaned against the wall, hands gripping the railing. Changing into the Hulk always took a lot out of him. However, he was still invested in convincing Natasha she was wrong. It wasn't as if he wanted anything to do with this new super-villain. It was just principle. God knows he had made many, many mistakes, yet here he was. But instead of speaking of himself, he brought up a more recent shift towards redemption. “None of us thought working with Loki would be possible.”

“I don't trust trust Loki for a second.” Natasha's cold gaze returned at the mention of the demigod.

Bruce sighed, and rolled his eyes upward. “He's done a lot to help, on multiple occasions. We aren't equipped to deal with magical threats on our own, I think today proved that. We got lucky this time. We need more people who know what they're doing.” He still kept his eyes away from Natasha. He had them locked heavenward, as if somehow that would help.

But she finally took her eyes off of him as the elevator chimed and the doors opened. “I think one fox in the hen house is enough to deal with.”

They stepped out onto the twenty-second floor, which while being only one of several recreational floors, had become a hub of activity. They ate there, had meetings there, and just lounged around on their down time, when there was nothing more to do except watch television. Natasha headed towards the kitchen. 'Kitchen' encompassed only half of its function, given at least twenty-five percent of its space was taken up by alcohol. That was the section Natasha headed for, setting her duffel bag upon the island. “I need a drink.”

“I think I'll just have tea,” Bruce said as he followed and acquired a teapot and his favorite blend of chamomile and raspberry tea.

Natasha smiled in amusement as she poured herself a small glass of vodka over ice. “Do you have no vices?” She found a seat for herself on one of the stools lined up along the island counter.

Bruce did have his share of indulgences (Tony was right to accuse him of having a bag of weed at his disposal when his emotions ran too high), but alcohol was not one of them. The smell brought back too many bad memories. “Yes, but they're a secret.”

By the time Bruce was pouring himself a hot cup of tea, Natasha was on her second glass. They kept silent for awhile after that, each to their own thoughts. Bruce tried not to think about anything stressful, and contemplated a project that he and Tony had been working on. It was a pet project really, nothing Bruce thought was especially important. But Tony insisted that finding a way to reverse engineer Thor's hammer was important science. Thor had allowed Tony to take all the scans he wanted on the object, considering Tony couldn't have lifted it, so its not like he could do it any harm. But every test produced little to no usable data. As Bruce was going over how to re-calibrate the sensors to detect even more minor fluctuations in heat, a previously unheard sound reached his ears, the volume slowly rising. Natasha turned her head to the right, where around a corner was their home theater. “The TV is on.”

“It's probably Clint,” Bruce suggested, stepping left in an attempt to confirm his suspicions.

“If it is, he's going to regret leaving us alone to deal with Fury.” With a cool demeanor that disguised her rage, Natasha set her drink down and stood.

Any calmness that the chamomile had brought was erased. Though he weaved around the island to join Natasha, he wanted to talk her down, not encourage her. “Maybe you should do that in the morning.”

Before Natasha could answer, she was interrupted by another sound, one louder than the TV and one that was more present, and less likely to have come from speakers. It was a sort of high-pitched bleat. “What was that,” Natasha asked.

“It sounded like a sheep... or a goat.” The sound was equally baffling to Bruce, and he proceeded with the other Avenger towards the sound of the television; around the corner and down a few elongated steps. Sure enough, Clint was lounging on the couch, drinking from a bottle of beer while there were several empty ones on the end table to his right. He was watching a rerun of Pawn Stars, and.... there was a goat, happily eating through the side of one of Tony's favorite leather armchairs.

“Oh hey,” Clint said, as casual as if watching TV with a goat was an every day occurrence.

Natasha was speechless at first. Lucky for Clint, she didn't seem to be angry anymore, and she approached the couch, putting both of her hands on the back of it behind Clint. “Why is there a goat in our living room?”

Bruce didn't move. He didn't say anything. What -could- he do but stare at the animal with his face wrinkled from bewilderment?

Clint spread out his arm in a floppy gesture.“Is there?” Clint asked, sitting up and onto the edge of the couch. “It's Schrodinger's goat. JARVIS says it doesn't exist.”

“JARVIS, where did this goat come from?” Natasha's voice was a little terse, and Bruce silently hoped that the AI had a reasonable explanation.

But the disembodied voice sighed, and sounded downright frustrated. “I'll tell you the same thing I told Mr. Barton. There is no goat showing up an any security camera, and no non-humanoid heat signatures except for Ms. Romanov's cat.”

Bruce didn't know if a mystery goat was really a better conflict than Natasha's beef with Clint. As confused as he was, he had to appreciate that no one was yelling.

“But I'm looking right at it,” Natasha said, stepping towards the animal to bend into a squat beside it. She may not have been yelling, but she had a look of someone who had just found an insect in their bed.

The goat didn't seem interested in their conversation, pausing only long enough to give Bruce and Natasha a cursory glance. It continued its meal of leather, occasionally gnawing on wood as well. For all Natasha's skill with examining minute facial expressions to uncover lies and hidden emotions, Bruce figured her training couldn't help her determine what was in the mind of a goat.

“I know what you're thinking. 'Why is there a goat in the tower?' 'Where did it come from?' 'Why can't JARVIS see it?'” Clint betrayed his inebriation with his loose mannerisms and slightly slurred speech. “I've come up with some theories.”

Bruce finally stepped in with a voice of reason as he sat down on the arm of the couch. “Wherever it came from we should probably stop it from eating any more furniture before Tony sees this.”

“Hey, I -tried- to stop it, but the damned thing almost bit me.” Clint seemed sullen about this, and finished the rest of his beer with a loud gulp.

Natasha was not in a patient mood, and she got up from her squat to grab the remote and turn off the television, despite Clint's weak 'hey' in protest. “This has to be some kind of practical joke.”

“Maybe its Thor's. You know, to barbecue or something,” Clint offered.

Bruce wasn't sure, but if a goat could look angry, this goat was definitely angry at Clint for that suggestion.

“That doesn't explain why JARVIS can't see it,” Natasha said, rubbing her fingers over the bridge of her nose.

“It could be Loki's,” Bruce said, hazarding a guess. “His magic could likely hide something from JARVIS. And its not as if Tony and him get along...”

“So he puts a goat in here to eat Tony's furniture? Where would he get a goat?” Natasha crossed her arms, and Bruce found himself wondering the same thing.

“Hey, do you think... nah.”

“What Clint?” Natasha asked.

Clint unfolded himself from the couch and took a hesitant step towards the goat. “Do you think he would... turn someone into a goat? Can he do that?”

“I wouldn't be surprised if he could,” Bruce admitted. “But he's been a lot better recently... He's never done anything this drastic.”

“Bruce, don't tell me that Loki wouldn't do something like this. He's done far worse in the past. He's always fighting about something, and if he snapped.... We can't ignore the possibility.” The Black Widow took a step to stand Clint as he took a turn squatting in front of the goat.

Bruce wasn't buying this theory. Maybe he was naive, but he didn't think Loki would do something to threaten his relatively safe position with the Avengers on Earth. “-If- he turned someone into a goat, who?”

“JARVIS, is anyone missing?” Natasha asked, not bothering to look up this time.

“Thor, Mr. Rogers, Mr. Stark, and Loki are at Shield, being debriefed,” the A.I. answered.

“Yeah, I thought I saw them get out of a helicopter before I left,” Clint confirmed.

“What about Pepper?” Natasha continued.

“Ms. Potts left around ten pm to attend a charity ball.”

“It's 3 am, shouldn't she be back by now?” Bruce bit the inside of his cheek after asking this; he really didn't want to encourage this theory but it was a valid concern. However, he regretted the question when Clint reached out to grab the goat by its head.

The animal bleated with indignation, and tried to back away, but Clint kept his hold and frantically exclaimed, “Blink if you're Pepper!” The goat -did- blink, but it also bit into Clint's fingers until the archer let go with a yelp.

“Clint stop, you're drunk.” Bruce reached for the man's hand to get a look at the injury while he spoke, a soft frustration creeping into his tone. “I highly doubt Loki would be stupid enough to turn Pepper into a goat. Not just because of what Tony would do, but what Pepper would likely do.”

Natasha had become the calm one, and she uncrossed and lowered her arms. “It might be far-fetched but I wouldn't discredit the idea entirely. Even if it's not Pepper, the goat isn't showing up for JARVIS, and that's worrying. You should take it down to the lab and run some tests.” She lifted up a finger and headed back to the kitchen before Bruce could answer, and came back moments later with a black cord she had likely retrieved from her duffel bag.

“I'm not a veterinarian,” Bruce protested weakly.

Natasha tied the cord around the goat's neck like a leash, and handed it to Bruce. “I'm sure you'll manage.”

 

Bruce was -not- a veterinarian and after Clint was bit he had become wary of the goat. However, it seemed to like him, or at least it tolerated him, because it followed him to the elevator, and up to the laboratory without a fuss. While there were several labs, including one for Loki that dealt with the arcane, Bruce still shared one with Tony. He was unsure why, but he and brilliant billionaire and self proclaimed playboy had always gotten along well. Maybe it was because Tony had never showed any fear of him. He never changed his irreverent nature to try and tip-toe around Bruce for fear of the Hulk. They had a comfortable companionship, and Bruce was grateful to have a relatively normal friendship in his life.

Firstly, upon entering the laboratory, he realized he needed to secure the goat. He looked away for a second to retrieve a stethoscope and the goat had wandered away, following a clueless Dum-E in an attempt to get its teeth around the thick wires attached to the robot's arm. As much as he knew Tony would be upset about the armchair, he didn't want to see Tony's reaction to a goat eating one of his creations. Bruce pulled the goat away swiftly, and tied it to the table leg of what had been primarily his work area. It was quite the expressive animal, Bruce thought, as it looked downright peeved at his gall to pull it away from snack time.

He wasn't sure what tests to perform, but a simple check for a heartbeat seemed the most logical first step. Sure enough, after sliding the ear-tips into his ears and pressing the drum against the side of the goat, he heard a steady rhythm. Well, that was a relief, he thought. The goat was alive, and not just a specter or illusion. It still wasn't showing up for JARVIS, though, so Bruce went to the next logical step, to see if the goat showed up with an infrared scan. He did it himself instead of asking JARVIS to do it, pointing a gun-shaped device at the animal. As he peered into the holographic projections that served as computer screens., he saw something curious. Not only was the goat apparently not projecting any heat, not even a vague shape appeared. Even Dum-E produced a vague outline on the screen. It was as if the goat did not exist. No wonder JARVIS was confused.

He put the sensor gun down, and decided to try something even simpler. After pulling out his special Stark phone (because Tony would not have the Avengers using 'primitive' Apple products), he tried to take a picture of the animal. Sure enough, even before snapping a photo, the goat did not show up on the screen.. Bruce didn't know what to think. The goat -was- here, he could touch it, hear its heartbeat, feel it was warm with his hand. It had even left a sizable bite mark on Clint and ruined a chair. He wasn't sure what to do next, though he thought perhaps taking a sample of the goat's blood might yield some result. But he was -not- a veterinarian. The others would have to wait until he found someone qualified to run more invasive tests.

It was about the time that Bruce decided to go back upstairs that he heard footsteps. Oh, no. Tony. Bruce was not looking forward to the idea of explaining this to his lab partner, but he tried to look as casual as possible sitting and slouching against the table.

The look on Tony's face was priceless. “Why is the goat in my lab?”

“Natasha asked me to run some tests,” Bruce began, acting as if the question was routine.“We don't know how it got in the Tower, but its not showing up on camera, or on infra-red. JARVIS has no idea what we're talking about when we ask, so we were concerned.”

Tony gave Bruce an exhausted eye-roll as he sauntered over, setting himself down in an empty chair nearby. “It's Loki's. He brought it back with us from our last mission.”

It wasn't surprising that the goat had something to do with Loki, and he was grateful someone knew something about the situation, but there were still so many questions. “...Why?”

“That's what I kept asking!” Tony exclaimed, waving his hands up through the air. “I don't know, I was unconscious for most of the battle, but apparently the goat 'saved his life' so he's keeping it as a pet. Because he can't find enough ways to drive me crazy.”

“You were unconscious? Are you alright?” Bruce leaned forward and gave Tony a quick once over, noting the bruises at his temple.

Tony brushed it off. “It's nothing a little alcohol won't fix.” With a sigh, the billionaire looked down at the goat, staring as if it were a cockroach. “We came back here before we headed to SHIELD. He was supposed to leave it in his room. Where was it?”

“By the TV.”

Tony crossed his arms with childish irritation. “JARVIS can't see it?”

Bruce shook his head, and looked down at the animal who was getting sleepy. It had laid its head down on Bruce's shoe, and he felt grateful it hadn't tried to eat it. “No, and I have no idea why. But... considering it belongs to Loki, I think that's for him to figure out, if he isn't directly responsible himself.”

“Lets just get it out of here. I'm not going to be happy if it decides to poop on something.”

As Bruce stood, gently pulling the goat up by its leash, he heard another set of footsteps. Entering the lab was Loki, whose brow was creased in with outrage. The goat rushed to him so abruptly that Bruce lost his grip on the cord.

“-What- is she doing in here?”

 

Steve was exhausted and bruised black and blue, but he couldn't sleep. Sometimes after a mission like the one they were just back from, adrenaline continued to pump through his veins long after the danger was gone. He often stayed up late watching TV until he fell asleep. Natasha found it amusing, and suggested he put a TV in his room. He decided not to. When he was feeling like this, his room was the last place he wanted to be. He felt boxed in and claustrophobic, even though his room was expansive. So on this night too, he got off on the common floor, and headed for the television.

The couch was already taken by Clint and Natasha, both of which were asleep while the TV hummed in the background. Their presence wasn't the strangest thing. It was that the side of Tony's favorite armchair was almost entirely demolished, strips of leather dangling by a thread.

Steve did not want to wake his teammates, but he didn't have to. Natasha was a light sleeper, and she awoke first, becoming alert despite the fatigue that left circles under her eyes. She hit Clint's shoulder until he woke as well, much more groggy. “I suppose you have some ammo against us now.” The two of them scoot over to make room, and Steve did sit, but his mind was still preoccupied with the chair. “What happened to it?”

“The chair?” Natasha turned her gaze to it and shook her head. “You aren't going to believe this... but a goat ate it.”

“Schrodinger's goat,” Clint chimed in, but Natasha elbowed him gently. “Its not funny a second time.”

“Loki's goat?” Steve had felt it was pointless to tell Loki no on such a minor issue. Sure, he thought it was weird that the fallen god would want that kind of animal as a pet, but what was the harm? However, if he was going to let it destroy the furniture, placating Tony was going to be much harder.

“Wait, you know about it?” Natasha scooted back so she could sit up, leaning forward slightly with the question.

“Yeah. Loki brought it back from the mission, I think he's keeping it as a pet.” Steve shrugged and didn't say more because he didn't want to discuss how close they had come to losing their lives.

“See, I told you, its not Pepper,” Natasha said, placing a hand on Clint's shoulder in a patronizing gesture.

“Hey, you agreed with me.”

“I only meant that we shouldn't rule out any possibilities.” Natasha snorted and reached past Clint to grab a clear glass that had only a sliver of liquid left. She finished it, and leaned her head back against the couch. “I should go to bed.”

Steve still felt a bit jumpy, and hid his disappointment.

Clint peered down at his hand with a frown, rubbing his fingers over the bruised grooves. “I hope I don't turn into a goat.”

Both Natasha and Steve were confused and looked at Clint as if they were saying Clint-really-is-a-weird-drunk.

“Why would you turn into goat?” Natasha asked with hesitancy.

“It bit me! And it's Loki's, so for all we know it has some strange goat lycanthropy.”

Steve stepped in this time. “There is no such thing as were-goats. Unless this is one more thing that has changed in the last seventy years.”

Natasha slipped off the couch and raised her arms above her head in a light stretch. “We would have told you if there were. You boys have fun, I'm going to get some rest.”

“Are you going to bed too?” Steve asked Clint.

“Nah, if I go to bed now, the hangover I'm going to get will be much worse.” The archer searched for the TV remote and brought up Netflix with a playful smile. “Besides, there is still so much cultural education I need to subject you to.”

Steve really hoped that whatever Clint was going to make him see was better than when Tony made him watch the Twilight saga. “What are we watching?”

Clint planted a grin on his face and asked, “Have you ever seen Black Sheep?”

 

Tony woke in the afternoon the next day, feeling groggy with a splitting migraine. SHIELD had made him, and the rest of the team get checked out, and though it felt like his head was split open, it was not. He would have slept longer, but JARVIS woke him up at one pm, reminding him he had a meeting at three. He -would- have told JARVIS to cancel it, but considering Pepper had already rescheduled it two times, he wasn't going to push his luck.

He didn't bother to change out of his pajamas and took the elevator down to the common floor. He wasn't hungry, but JARVIS would tell Pepper if he hadn't ate. Why JARVIS decided to let Pepper be his surrogate mother was a mystery, and one that annoyed him. It was a conspiracy, mutiny. But, since he had long ago admitted that he would never get anything done without the two of them, he simply submitted to their overbearing, hovering care.

Cereal, check. Milk, check. Some of the two percent sloshed over the side of his bowl as he served himself, grateful that the kitchen was still calm and quiet. He bet the -others- were allowed to sleep in longer. He almost grabbed a fork instead of a spoon, but once he had the proper utensil, he headed to the couch to watch some TV. It usually helped him wake up. News? No, fuck no. Maybe he'd just find a movie to-

Tony stared at what was once his favorite chair. It's beautiful black leather was torn to shreds on one side, exposing the wood and metal underneath. He walked to it, and bent down to inspect the damage further. While he couldn't glean anything from the missing leather, the wood had many many grooves, that Tony realized were teeth marks. Who would have done this? Tony scowled and ran his fingers across the grooves, hissing as a splinter lodged itself in his skin. It felt like a sick practical joke, but really, who or what would have -bit- into his chair. For a moment, he was truly stumped. It wasn't as if he felt completely awake yet, but he set his cereal bowl down on the chair with enough force that the milk spilled over when it dawned on him.

“Loki!”


End file.
